


A Girl Worth Fighting For

by shrimpheaven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bragging, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Minor Sif/Brunnhilde, Mulan-inspired AU, SECRETLY, Sibling Incest, Sort Of, and then fucking him, but secretly, cool beans, sexy sexy bragging, thor bragging about loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrimpheaven/pseuds/shrimpheaven
Summary: Thor is roped into a conversation about what would make a girl worth fighting for... except that girl is actually a man, and his brother, but who needs to know that?





	A Girl Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a nerd and have never posted here before, so please accept my apologies for any tag-gore or missing info. Unbeta'd (because that is who I am as a person), and posted from a tablet (because my laptop is currently with the Laptop Fixers for some time). 
> 
> Also - this is set in some sort of weird post-fixed-IW world (without any explicit reference to IW event) where Asgard is restored and everyone is alive and well, and pretty happy about it. No one has any cares or worries and life is fun! Because, y'know... We need that.

The path out to the training grounds was dusty and well-worn by the hundreds of boots that trod it each morning and evening. Day after day, Thor marched himself out to the arena, arriving before Loki or his companions even left the palace; warming his muscles alone, and then sparring until he thought his bones would bruise. He then drug himself back to the palace proper, back to his chambers, where he knew that a hot, well-oiled soak awaited him. Among other things.

Those "other things" typically included Loki. Perhaps Loki absorbed in a new manuscript, or Loki improving his skill at conjuring, or simply Loki stretched out on Thor's massive bed of silks and furs and feather-down, relaxed and pliant and waiting.

Waiting to see which Thor he would meet that day: rough and dominant, all teeth and grunts and fast, sharp thrusts as he drains the last of his battle-lust into Loki's soft, delicate skin? Playful, grinning and good-natured, his eyes closed happily as his hands find Loki's hips, settled astride his own? Gentle, lingering touches and worship with his mouth and tongue as he treasures Loki's long body beneath him?

Thor appeared to have become a new man in the months since he and Loki began sharing a bed. His love and lust for life grew anew. He smiled, he laughed, he talked of souls and contentment and happiness for the first time in many years. His happiness, in fact, began to draw attention. He endeavored to keep his personal affairs as personal as possible, not out of shame or guilt, but out of that special secret thrill one feels from possessing a very important and joyous secret with no expectation of inclusion from others. His dearest friends poked and prodded, alluding to their knowledge that something was happening, and likely with a someone, but who it could be was anyone's guess. Perhaps there was some reason for his discretion, some married noble or foreign ambassador or a palace guard or servant.

For the briefest of moments, his closest friends considered that it could be one among them, but they determined it was not likely to be Sif or Brunnhilde, for self-evident reasons that they themselves had only recently disclosed; it was not at all likely to be Volstagg, a contentedly wedded family-man, nor was it likely to be Hogun, given his tendency toward a preference for platonic companionship over the romantic; for a time, the friends turned a suspicious eye toward Fandral despite his denial, but it was eventually assuredly decided that none among them were the cause of Thor's sudden cheer.

No one thought to ask Loki. He did not dare speak up. He too enjoyed the thrill of a well-kept secret.

•••••

Thor, having slept far past his usual hour, found himself trailing out to the training grounds with the rest of his companions. Their conversation began casual and pleasant enough, until Thor sensed a shifting tide in Fandral's proclamation that he had decided, after much deliberation, on the qualities of the perfect woman. Inwardly, Thor groaned. Outwardly, he gestured for Fandral to continue, hoping that the sooner it began the sooner it could end. Fandral cleared his throat as if preparing to make a grand announcement.

"The woman who inhabits my dreams would have a gentle complexion, as pale as the moon in the midnight sky," he declared without preamble. "And her eyes will shine like stars alongside it. Of course, she'll marvel at my strength... or perhaps my wit and charm instead." He winked. "She would be the beauty that launched not a thousand ships, but ten thousand. One hundred thousand. She would put the fabled Helen of Troy to shame; she would be the gentle beauty, left behind, worth fighting for."

Volstagg huffed out a laugh.

"Oh, boy. One day you'll learn that you won't give a single care as to what she wears, or how she styles her hair, or how she looks. Though my dear Hildegund is indeed the most beautiful woman I myself have ever laid eyes on, it matters not. What matters is the way she cares for us, for myself and for our children and family; our bellies never empty, and her tenderness has never failed me. The perfect woman is a companion, not an artifact!" He laughed again, and threw his arm around Fandral's shoulder. Thor continued to smile and nod, content to listen rather than to share. He knew this game. But he was patient.

Brunnhilde nudged her elbow into Sif's side, grinning.

"Well, my lady will find I have no faults whatsoever, and content herself with the fact that I am in fact quite a find." Sif, rolling her eyes, nudged an elbow right back at Brunhilde, hard enough to cause her to stumble sideways a step as she feigned an indignant look.

"How about a lady who exercises her mind as well as her strength, and speaks her thoughts instead of allowing them to pass her by?" Sif responded.

Brunnhilde pretended to ponder for a moment before pulling a face.

"Nah!"

She winked, putting her arm around Sif's waist to pull her close again. They smiled.

Hogun remained silent.

"What about you, Thor?" Brunnhilde asked. "Tell us about the girl you're looking for. Or the girl you have already found... ?"

Thor smiled, attempting to placate them and appeal to a greater sense of modesty.

"My friends, it is not for me to romance and recount the tale. I shall choose to remain silent."

Nevertheless, they persisted.

"We know there is _someone_ , Thor."

"Is it some dignitary from another world?"

"A fair maid in the palace? A girl from the kitchens?"

"Perhaps a secret affair with some young, promised nobleman?"

Thor actually blushed ever so slightly at that suggestion, as they neared closer to stumbling right into the thick of things purely through conjecture.

This flush did not escape Loki's attention. He had remained silent up until this point, similarly content not to draw attention to himself, but he could no longer resist poking the bear that was his brother.

"Yes, Thor," he mused innocently. "Do tell us. I am simply _dying_ to know."

"Not even Loki knows, then?" Fandral asked, sounding surprised. "Oh, then this ought to be a most excellent tale indeed."

Thor allowed his thoughts to drift away for a moment as his companions continued to jab and jest, until he could no longer hold his tongue.

"Alright then," he said gruffly. "I will tell you. I will tell you all about the fair companion who has occupied both my bed and my endless thoughts these last months."

Sif reached forward to throw a friendly punch at Fandral's shoulder in celebration. Brunnhilde raised her eyebrows in surprise. Hogunn seemed somewhat unimpressed with this turn of events, as always.

Thor huffed as he thought for a moment, looking upward. Not to his left, where Loki walked, and possibly balked. No, certainly not there. He drew a breath.

"I will tell you about soft, creamy skin, unblemished, unscarred... soft skin that seems to go on for days and days across a long, lithe form that is all lean muscle and quiet strength. And raven hair so dark that it seems to shine from within itself, falling in small, soft curls when not coaxed into some elaborate design... and how nicely these soft curls wrap around my fingers as I slide my hands through them." Thor couldn't stop there, but he didn't dare look at any of faces behind him, now silent and hanging on his every word. He looked straight ahead.

"And of the most intriguing thoughts forged in a well-read and well-borne education, spun from the ideas of the greatest thinkers and inventors and designers and doers ever recorded, and a spirit unafraid to prove them. Those ideas are brought to life by hands so swift and deft that they almost seem alive with sparks of magic."

Thor felt Loki's entire form begin crackle beside him with those same sparks, not entirely physically but also not entirely spiritually, and was thankful that the two of them seemed to share a bond of magic and seidr that no one else detected. He continued.

"And that soft skin... how nicely blue and purple bruises bloom across it as it hours pass with it caught between my teeth, and how that quiet, delicate strength sometimes manifests such that I fear my head will be crushed by two thighs squeezing tight on either side of it. If not undone by those, then by such soft lips that speak both the sweetest hopes and the filthiest promises, and that hide a soft, pillowy heat capable of undoing any man. Oh, but behind those lips, a tongue so sharp that it sometimes threatens to shred my very being, yet so talented that it causes me to fall apart almost nightly."

From behind Thor, Volstagg let out a long, slow whistle. Beside him, Fandral tipped his head in what could almost be admiration.

"Such a description almost defies-"

"I was not finished," Thor interrupted him. He could feel that Loki was practically vibrating beside him, and Thor was determined to push this as close to the danger-point as he could. He sneaked a glance at Loki to see a beautiful pink flush spreading across his nose and high up on his cheeks. Thor knew that flush. He knew it well. He continued.

"You have asked, my friends, and I shall not go back on my word. I will tell you everything." He chuckled before taking a deep breath.

"I will tell you of an ass so round and pert that I cannot help but to sink my teeth into it whenever I am near, like the sweetest, ripest fruit I could ever hope to be treated to; I will tell you of a taste that immediately and incessantly makes me hunger for more whenever I happen to catch it upon my tongue. So soft, and so tight, and oh, so excellent, in fact, at taking my full, _aching_ cock again and again nearly every night that I could never hope to find-"

Finally, Loki was the one to interrupt Thor.

" _I think that is entirely quite enough information, Thor, thank you_." His voice was tight, strained. If his cheeks and words are any indication, Thor would bet anything that Loki was now desperately hard.

"I have just happily realized that I left behind an important tome for today's work with the other casters, and must return to retrieve it. I am _so terribly sorry_ to miss out on the rest of my dear brother's _functionally pornographic account_ of whoever has found their place in his bed," he finished dryly, before allowing his physical shape to flicker out of space.

Brunnhilde laughed.

"I can hardly blame him, Your Majesty," she joked. "I don't think I could have handled much more of that myself, and I am happily and blessedly unrelated to you. Think of your poor brother, having to hear you wax poetic about the place you've found in which to sheath your sword." Sif tossed her a playfully admonishing look, at least trying to maintain a smidge of decorum throughout the whole affair. The others all looked a bit stunned, caught in a strange mix of impressed concern and... something else. Thor felt confident that he would not be asked a similar question again for fear of just how much farther he would be willing to speak.

They soon arrived at the training grounds, all dropping their packs and shields to strap on the rest of their armor. Sif spoke as she casually polished a spear-tip.

"So, Thor. When do we ever get to become acquainted with this mystery lover?"

Thor continued tightening down his bracers.

"Oh, did I not mention? I believe you have all already met." He tied down the last buckle and smiled as two of his regular sparring partners walked up in greeting.

"Now if you'll excuse me, friends, I have a match." He walked away with the other two men, an arm slung over either of their shoulders as they laughed.

While the rest of the group finished their preparations, they tossed around name after name, chasing the identity of this bewitching mystery lover.

"Could it be Alva, from the kitchens?"

"Surely not; Alva was just wed to Balendin some two weeks ago."

"I was sure it was Maarit before today!"

"Oh, or what about Solja, Sir Merle's daughter?"

"No, I am certain it is Egil, of House Byquist. Thor never actually confirmed it was a woman!"

They all murmured and pondered this for a moment.

Meanwhile, Hogun stared off into the distance, willing with all his might that one of these suggestions would turn out to be the true answer. He felt fairly certain, however, they would not.

•••••

Now Loki lays on top of Thor, entire body pressed flush against him; Thor has an arm wrapped tight around Loki's waist, holding him tight as he pushes up into him over and over, fast and relentless. A small, high-pitched sound escapes Loki's lips with every thrust, and Thor drinks them all down eagerly. Neither of them have the wherewithal to try to continue their kiss properly, but their lips sit parted and just barely touching between them, even as Loki's whole body bounces forward and back on Thor's throbbing cock. He's winded, panting, blissed and fucked-out and the best kind of exhausted as Thor shows no signs of relenting. His other hand is wound into Loki's hair, and every few thrusts he gives another little tug that makes Loki's own cock give an extra jerk where it lays trapped between them, the slide of Thor's abdominal muscles along the underside only pushing him closer to coming all over both of them. Thor uses the hand fisted in Loki's hair to tug his head to the side and whispers into his ear.

"I would have you like this every night for as long I as I live," he breathes hoarsely. "I would have you this and every other way, and if it were truly my choice, I would not leave this bed again. I would not let you leave again."

His lips ghost across Loki's ear, and he takes the lobe gently in his teeth.

Something unspoken floats between them, hanging on Thor's last words. Then he pulls his head back down and sinks his teeth into Loki's throat, grinning as he does. Loki feels him murmur something against his skin. A wish. A promise. A hope, maybe. Half-question, half-answer.

This is what pushes Loki over the edge. He tightens deliciously around Thor, coming onto both of their stomachs as Thor continues to pound up into him, Loki's cock now sliding slick between them. Thor fucks him through it and then comes himself just a few thrusts later, wrapping his arm even tighter around Loki's waist and holding him impossibly close, his face pressed hard into Loki's shoulder as he pulses hot ropes of come inside of him. Loki shudders.

They like that for a while, skin still pressed together from head to toe, feeling each other's breathing slow as the carnal high fades into gentle comfort.

He decides that he can suffer the perceived indignities of Thor's oversharing if this is his reward.

It's worth it for this. 

 


End file.
